


New Year, New Sprace

by TotallyNot



Series: Newsies Oneshots [5]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: #LetCrutchieSayFuck2k19, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Gen, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Years, New York City, Pining, haha shit, javid - Freeform, newsbians, sprace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 18:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallyNot/pseuds/TotallyNot
Summary: Spot attends Kath and Sarah's New Year's party.





	New Year, New Sprace

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been to New York, never been drunk, and never been to a real party. So was this a good idea? Most definitely not.

Spot Conlon was miserable. It was New Years Eve, and he was alone in his little apartment, sad, and very much not looking forward to midnight. It wasn’t that he hadn't been invited to any parties, quite the contrary. His friends, Kath and Sarah, had organized a party, and all of his friends were there. Spot had debated going, but decided against it, because of one thing. Antonio 'Racetrack' Higgins. Now, Spot didn’t hate Race, quite the opposite. Race was his best friend (and crush) for five years. He just knew that he would go to the party, watch the ball drop, and then see Race kiss some lucky girl. And then, when that happened, Spot would have gone home, curled up in a ball, and feel his heart break.    
   
So Spot was playing it safe. However miserable he was now, he would be more miserable seeing Race. He thought about texting Davey, but realized that Jack had probably dragged him to the party. He was going to turn on the TV, when he felt his phone buzz. He took it out and smiled when he saw the name. 

 

 **Race:**  

Spoyieeee why arnt you hear?  

 

 **Spot:**  

Wow. You're really drunk, huh? 

 

 **Race:**   

I miss youu 

 

 **Spot:**   

Miss you too, Racer. But seriously, get some water or something, you're really drunk. 

 

 **Race:**  

Come sew us. Come to the oarty. 

 

 **Spot:**  

I told you earlier, I'm staying home. 

 

 **Race:**  

Then im coming to see yiu. 

 

 **Spot:**  

You're drunk. You are not driving. 

 **Race:**  

Come to the pary and I wont come see you,

 

 **Spot:**  

Fine.  

 

Spot put his phone back in his pocket, grabbed a coat, then locked up his apartment, before walking to Sarah and Kath's. 

 

When he got there, he knocked on the door three times. To his surprise, Crutchie answered. To rephrase, a very drunk  

 

Crutchie opened the door. "Spottt! You came!" 

 

"Hey Crutch." Spot said, hanging his coat up. "Happy New Year." 

 

"Happy New Years to you, too!" Crutchie giggled. "Got anyone to kiss when the clock turns?" 

 

Spot laughed. "No way, Crutch." He almost asked if Crutchie had a date, but then remembered Crutchie's reaction when Jack and Davey started dating. He doubted that Crutchie would get over Jack easily.    
 

Spot pushed passed Crutchie, into the living room. It was chaos. Specs and Romeo were making out in one corner, Kath and Sarah were doing a terrible rendition of "Defying Gravity" from wicked, and Blink was chugging down a beer, Mush cheering him on. 

 

Spot walked over to what seemed to be the safest corner of the room, near Davey and Jack. Now, normally, heading towards a drunk Jack Kelly wouldn't be a smart idea. But Davey was there, and Davey was very responsible. Usually. However, after what appeared to be around four drinks, Davey was not the man to keep Jack in order. Davey was sat around Jack, one arm around his neck, sprouting random facts. 

 

"-That rattlesnakes start to rattle when they're scared?" 

 

"No," Spot said, sitting down on the couch next to them.  "I did not know that. What a really neat snake fact, Dave." 

 

Davey grinned. "Hey Spottttt!" 

 

Jack took another swig of his beer, and then gave Davey a peck on the cheek before turning to Spot. "My boyfriend is so hot. Smarts are sexy." 

   
Spot gagged. "I need a drink." And so, he stood up, and walked into the kitchen, only to find Mush and Blink. "Ew. Get a room, you two." Mush did not pause the making out, but flipped Spot off behind his back. Spot sighed, and then turned to the 'punch'. It looked appealing, but upon further inspection, he saw that it was made by Darcy, who had graduated and become a bartender. Anything made by Darcy was for later in the night. So Spot was surveying the array of drinks, when he felt someone bump into him. He turned around and saw… Race?  

 

"Hiya Spottie! You came!" 

 

- _Jesus. I really need a drink-_ , Spot thought, sighing.  

 

"You do? We've got plentyyyy!" Race said, grabbing Spot's wrist to lead him. Spot realized he had spoken aloud, and mentally slapped himself. 

 

"There's plenty over here, Racer," Spot said, pointing to the wide array of alcoholic beverages.  

 

"Oh! That's where they were!" Race grabbed two cans of beer, opened them, and poured them into two solo cups. Spot took his with appreciation.  

   
"Thank ya, Racer." 

 

"No problem Spottie boy. I's really glad you came, ya know?" 

 

"…" Spot gulped down some of his beer in silence. He entertained Race for the better part of an hour, before wandering off to find someone - _anyone-_ who wasn't Race. He came upon Jack and Davey, who were in the same spot as before, only now, Davey was asleep. Jack saw Spot, and his eyes lit up. 

 

"Sean! I have something to tell you!" 

 

"Uh huh?" 

   
"I hate David Jacobs." 

  
   
"Really?" Spot asked, raising an eyebrow at Jack. "You sure about that, buddy?" Every time Spot and Jack were at a party, Jack took the opportunity to remind everyone how utterly _-awful-_ David Jacobs was.  

 

"Yes! Like, who does he think he is? He's so goddamn funny, and- and…. Attractive, and smart, and yeah! Like, honestly. And he doesn't even know it. That's the worst part! How can someone be so perfect and not realize it?" 

 

"I don't know," Spot said, even though he did know. Race was always complaining about the way he looked, how he seemed too feminine. But Spot thought he was perfect. Not that he'd ever tell Race that, of course. Spot listened to Jack rant about Davey, until Spot listened to Jack rant about Davey, until Davey woke up, and the two were making their way to a (hopefully) empty bedroom.  

 

Spot sighed, and walked back into the kitchen. He filled his cup up with Darcy's concoction, before taking a long sip. Goddamn, it was good. Just the perfect amount of bite, but also sweet enough to make you need more. Spot took another sip, and then walked over to the window in the living room, slipping through it onto the fire escape. He set his drink down, and looked over the edge, at the beautiful view of Manhattan at night. He stood there for a minute, admiring all the lights, before someone else came out the window. Or, more accurately, fell. Spot's head whipped around, and he saw Race. Of course.

 

"Hey Spot. Whatcha doing away from everyone else?" 

 

"Came out to think." 

 

"Huh. I missed you when you weren't here, ya know?" 

   
"Sure." Race was now standing next to Spot, arms dangling off the edge, drink still in hand.  

 

"Spottie?" 

 

"Yeah," Spot asked turning to Race. 

   
Race didn't answer verbally, only leaned forward and kissed Spot. 

 

And then, - _Oh holy fuck-_ Spot Conlon was kissing Racetrack Higgins. - _Holy fucking shit, this is amazing_ ,- Spot thought, as Race kissed him _. -Holy mother of Jesus. Thank you, Lord.-_ Was Spot's final thought before coming to a very important realization. Race was straight. Race was very, very straight. Spot pulled back, detaching their lips with a sigh.  

 

"Spottie? What's wrong?" Race asked, a hurt expression on his face. 

 

Spot pushed him back a little. "Race, you… You's straight." 

 

"Who says? 'Cause I don't." 

 

"Racer, you's is my best friend. I know you's is straight. And you's also drunk. So I don't wantcha doing nothing you's just gonna regret in the mornin'. Okay? Capish?" 

 

"…Caposh. But I ain't straight."  

 

"Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel good, Racer." 

 

Race sighed wistfully, but nodded and sat down. Spot climbed back through the window, before seeking out Crutchie. Two single sad dudes were better than one, right? 

 

Spot eventually found Crutchie, who was sitting right outside the bathroom, his back pressed to the door. "Hey Crutch," Spot said, sitting down next to him.  

 

"Hey Spottie," Crutchie said, a little sadly.  

 

"You okay, buddy?" 

 

"No." 

 

"Aww, Charlie, what's up? You need to talk about it?" Spot asked, a concerned look on his face. 

 

"Not really," Crutchie said, sadly, and Spot nodded his head in understanding. But after a few moments, Crutchie spoke. "Hey Spot?" 

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"D'you know what it's like to have your heartbroken?" 

 

Spot almost answered no, but then thought about the kiss with Race. It didn't mean anything to Race, and that crushed Spot. Race wouldn't remember it, and if he did, it would be (rightfully) blamed on the alcohol, not concrete emotions. "Yeah, I think I do." 

 

"It fucking sucks," Crutchie blurted out, tears in his eyes. Spot sat back, letting Crutchie speak his mind.d. "Like, one minute they're calling you cute or something, and the next, they're making out with someone! Right in front of you! And he knows  you like him, too! Like, Jack is such an asshole! Y'know?" Crutchie asked, desperately.    
   
Spot nodded, and put an arm around Crutchie's neck. "I'm sorry, Char." He sat there for a while, Crutchie sobbing. After a while, Spot looked over at Crutchie, who had fallen silent. He was sleeping. Spot sighed, set down his drink, and scooped Crutchie into his arms, also grabbing the crutch, before carrying Crutchie to an empty bedroom and setting him down on the bed, putting his crutch close by.  

 

When Spot came out of the bedroom and closed the door, he realized that it was already 9:52.  He sighed. Half the people were walking down to Times Square to watch the ball drop, at least those who were sober enough to find their way. The people staying (Romeo, Specs, Jack, Davey, Crutchie, Mush, and Blink) were either fucking, drunk, or both.  

 

So Spot walked out the door with Sarah, Kath, Hot Shot, Race, Buttons, Darcy, Bill, and a few others. They were quite loud, but, to be fair, it was New Years, and New York, so this wasn't completely unwelcome. Spot stayed silent, but put his earbuds in, and walked. 

 

An hour an a half later, they were at Time's Square. They split up a little, but mainly stayed where the ball was, ready to start the new year. It was only 11:20, but already, tons of people were there. Spot sighed. He had seen the ball before, and yeah, it was cool, but he didn’t really have a reason to watch it again. Just the spirit of the New Years, he supposed. 

 

He stood in the cold, waiting, and watching the people around him. Thirty minutes later, he was snapped out of his trance by counting.  

 

"Fifteen," a little girl in a pink boa whispered.  

 

"Fourteen!" Her sister said, joining in. 

 

"Thirteen!" Spot said, earning a smile from the little girl. 

 

"Twelve!"  By now, the crowd had started to chant. 

 

"Eleven!" Sarah and Kath joined the group. 

 

"TEN!"  

 

"NINE!" 

 

"EIGHT!" 

 

"SEVEN!" 

 

"SIX!" Out of the corner of his eye, Spot saw Race enter the mass, pushing his way through. _-Race? What's he doing here?-_ Spot asked himself.  

 

"FIIVE!" Race walked towards Spot, pushing a few people out of the way. 

 

"FOUR!"  

 

"THREE!" 

 

"TWO!" And then Race was there, standing right in front of Spot.  

 

"I ain't straight," Race murmured. 

 

"ONE!" 

 

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"    
 

Race pulled Spot into a kiss, and, this time, Spot didn't pull back.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was shit but im tired. It hasn't been edited so woops. But yeah.


End file.
